


Sweat

by callay



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So a sergeant who talks too much and an angel who looks great shirtless walk into a greenhouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> For [a kinkmeme prompt](http://dominionkink.livejournal.com/422.html?thread=2470#t2470)!

Ethan had been nervous about this assignment, but he never thought it would go this terribly.

When he had been assigned to guard Archangel Michael, he had expected to embarrass himself by acting like an idiot. And that had happened multiple times. But at the very least, Ethan was still doing his job, protecting Michael.

Or so he thought. Yet somehow they ended up here, locked in one of Vega’s greenhouses.

It’s not exactly Ethan’s fault. Michael had come to meet the woman who runs these greenhouses to go over something about city food distribution. It was all a bunch of bureaucracy, which isn’t Ethan’s area of expertise, so while they talked he let his mind wander a bit.

He snapped to attention when Michael and the owner started arguing, ready to defend Michael should she turn violent. But instead the owner just turned and stormed out, telling Michael he could run the greenhouse himself if she was doing it so incorrectly.

Ethan was amazed at her nerve. Yelling at Archangel Michael! Michael did look decidedly pissy as he stalked to the door to leave.

Except the door had locked behind the owner, and they were stuck. 

Ethan had tried knocking and yelling for someone to let them out, but the place seemed empty. There had been some kind of caretaker here when they had arrived, but the owner had sent him out for a lunch break. Everything else in the greenhouse was automated. 

“Should we break a window?” Ethan had asked, eyeing the glass around the door.  “Or I mean… a piece of wall?”

“There is no need for that. I believe the caretaker will be back in about forty minutes, and he can let us out,” Michael had said calmly.

It’s been five minutes since then, and the situation is already unbearably uncomfortable in a multitude of ways.

First of all, it’s boiling hot in here. It’s near noon and the sun is shining directly down on them. Whatever heat-containing property makes a greenhouse work is definitely working. Long story short, it’s hot. Hot and humid – little nozzles keep spraying mist over the plants, as if it wasn’t already like breathing through a sponge in here.

Ethan is wearing several layers, topped by a bulletproof vest that seems to be making its own greenhouse out of his torso. Already he’s soaked in sweat and absolutely miserable.

Also, it’s awkward. Michael is calmly wandering the rows of planters, passing his neutral gaze over the various colorful plants. Ethan follows a few steps behind, wondering how upset Michael will be if he tries to make conversation.

He really can’t face 35 more minutes of complete silence, so he decides to go for it.

He clears his throat. “Do you… like flowers?”

Shit.

Michael turns around to look at him, raising one eyebrow.

“Sorry, I was just – there are a lot of really interesting flowers here, right? I wish they could grow in the rest of Vega, that would look really, uh –“

Stop talking, he tells himself. Except that as he’s been talking he noticed that Michael’s face is slightly redder than normal and that there’s sweat shining on his brow –

“Hey, you do sweat! Remember when I was asking you about that?”

It’s apparent that Michael does remember by the way his lips curve downwards. His beautiful full lips –

Not thinking about that.

And not talking.

Ethan clamps his mouth shut and looks down.

He knows he’s probably blushing, although it’s actually hard to tell when his whole body is this hot.

Michael turns away and resumes his slow walk through the greenhouse. Ethan follows, chagrined.

He’s usually _good_ at talking. He talks a lot, but people like that. He’s charming. 

Yet something about Michael – his extreme hotness, maybe, or the fact that he’s an _archangel_ – short-circuits the part of Ethan’s brain that actually makes decisions about what to say.

Which is unfortunate, because if there’s anyone Ethan wants to think well of him, it’s Michael. He wants Michael to _respect_ him, or better yet _like_ him, or better yet – 

Not thinking about that.

They’re on the last row, and Ethan turns to look out the glass sides of the building. Beyond is another greenhouse with different plants in it. Very exciting.

Ethan looks back at Michael and his jaw drops. Because Michael is casually undressing.

Okay, at the moment he’s only removing his long coat, which he folds neatly and sets aside. But Ethan’s astonishment feels justified when Michael continues pulls his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” asks Ethan, voice coming out just a little higher than normal. 

“There’s no point in being uncomfortably hot,” says Michael, turning to face him. 

And Ethan doesn’t say anything, because he knows if he opens his mouth he’ll say something like _How on earth are you so fucking gorgeous_.

Because Michael’s chest is breathtaking, perfectly muscled from smooth pecs to six-pack abs. He’s actually glistening with sweat, like his skin would be hot and slick to the touch –

Definitely not thinking about that. 

Michael is watching him, a slight tilt to his head. “You can do the same, Sergeant. I don’t think we’re in danger here.”

Ethan’s instinct is to object, because the last thing he wants to do is strip in front of Michael – except for the fact that he totally wants to strip in front of Michael, but he’s not thinking about that - but his other alternative is to be boiled alive inside his body armor, so he swallows and nods.

This situation is pretty much as awkward as they come anyway, taking his clothes off can’t make things that much worse.

It feels amazing to shed his bulletproof vest, like a great weight off his shoulders. Which it kind of is. He follows it with his uniform shirt, and pauses at his undershirt. But it’s sweat-soaked enough that it’s not hiding much anyway, so he yanks it over his head and tosses it aside.

And he’d thought Michael might look away or something, but he doesn’t, just watches Ethan with his normal neutral expression.

And suddenly this seems like it wasn’t such a great idea.

It’s a little better being shirtless, but Ethan’s still way warmer than he should be. There’s no breeze or anything, so now sweat’s just rolling down his sides instead of being absorbed by his clothes, which feels weird.

And being half-naked in front of half-naked Michael is doing nothing to lower his body temperature.

But he’s not thinking about that.

“Well,” he says, because he has to say something rather than just stand there silent and shirtless, “that does help. I really wish there was some wind, though.” An idea hits him and before he can think better of it, he says, “Hey, what if you fanned us with your wings?”

Under other circumstances, Michael’s expression would probably send a chill down his spine.

“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” squeaks Ethan. He knew angels were weird about their wings. Although he doesn’t know why. If he had wings, he would have them out all the time. He could fan himself if he was hot or wrap himself up if he was cold. They would look badass, and he could use them to impress people, or to distract people if he needed their attention elsewhere for a moment –

Suddenly Michael takes a step closer to him, interrupting Ethan’s train of thought. Ethan closes his mouth. And that’s when he realizes he actually was saying that stuff about wings out loud.

Shit.

Michael’s just glaring at him, and Ethan wants to look away. But Michael’s close enough that when he does, his eyes slide inevitably down Michael’s glistening torso.

And Ethan can’t not think about it. Because Michael’s only a foot away from him and he’s the hottest thing Ethan’s ever seen. In every sense of the word. There’s actually a bead of sweat rolling down the center of Michael’s stomach towards his belly button. Ethan can’t stand that, so he forces himself to look up. But up is Michael’s face, cheekbones shining in the sunlight, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, dark eyes staring back at Ethan.

Ethan really doubts his open-mouthed gaping was subtle, and he doesn’t know how to get out of this.

“I wasn’t checking you out!” he blurts.

Very convincing.

Desperately he continues, “I was just checking you – checking on you. To see how hot you are. No, I mean, I’m supposed to protect you, and – mmph –“

Michael stops him with a hand over his mouth.

Michael’s hand on his face. On his _lips_ , and Ethan doesn't think he’d be able to breathe, even if it weren’t for the mouth-covered thing. Michael’s even closer now and it’s like Ethan can feel the heat coming off his bare skin.

Ethan can’t not think about how much he wants Michael touching him everywhere.

And maybe mind-reading is part of Michael’s mysterious angel powers, because Michael puts his other hand on the small of Ethan’s back and pulls him in, pressing their torsos together.

For a moment Ethan’s body forgets how to beat his heart and breathe and think, and just focuses on the feeling of Michael against him. Hard muscle, burning hot skin, all slick with sweat.

Michael looks at Ethan and smiles, the smallest quirk in one corner of his mouth. “I suppose we can do something to pass the time,” he says calmly.

Ethan nods. He feels light-headed and he can’t tell if it’s from the heat, or from all his blood rushing south, or from the sheer insanity of the situation. He’s going to _do something_ with _Michael_.

Play it cool, he tells himself. Apparently acting like an idiot hasn’t turned Michael off him too badly, but he also really doesn’t want to screw this up now.

So when Michael takes his hand off Ethan’s mouth, Ethan just takes a deep, shaking breath, and doesn’t talk.

Michael smiles approvingly at him and drops to his knees.

Which makes Ethan reach whole new levels of not playing it cool. Because he’s definitely hard and now Michael’s face is _right there_. Michael blowing him has never been part of Ethan’s fantasies, because, well, _archangel_. But that just makes it that much more thrilling that it might actually be happening.

Which it isn’t.

Michael has moved further down, and is untying Ethan’s boots. “Step out,” he says and holds one still as Ethan removes his foot. Ethan feels silly, but he likes the idea of removing more clothes, so he lets Michael help him with the other foot too.

When Ethan’s boots are off, Michael stands up and presses in close again. Ethan tries to focus on toeing off his socks and not just melting in Michael’s arms. As he shifts his weight their bodies slide together in a way that’s incredibly hot. Like maybe it should be gross to mingle their sweat like this, but it’s actually amazing.

Michael’s hands are on his back, two points of heat, holding Ethan tight against him. And then they slide down and Michael slips his fingers under Ethan’s waistband.

Ethan gasps at the contact, his own hands clutching at Michael’s biceps. Which are really impressive, but Ethan doesn’t have time to think about that, because Michael’s thumbs are trailing teasingly around his hips to hook in the front of Ethan’s pants.

Ethan can’t stop his hips twitching up, cock straining toward Michael’s touch.

“Would you like me to touch you?” asks Michael quietly.

“Yes,” gasps Ethan, “yes, please, yes.”

“Help me with my shoes,” says Michael, voice low. He slides his hands up to Ethan’s shoulders and gently pushes him down.

And Ethan can definitely work with this. He doesn’t know if Michael really just wants his shoes off – probably not, if you think about it – but now that Ethan’s eye-to-eye with the bulge in Michael’s pants, he’s not letting this opportunity go to waste.

Leaning in, he mouthes at Michael’s cock through his pants, tracing the contours with his lips. Fuck, it’s big. As if Ethan really needed another reason to be turned on right now.

He thinks he hears a sharp intake of breath from Michael, but Michael just says, “Shoes.”

Obediently Ethan unlaces Michael’s shoes and pulls them off. But as soon as he’s done sits right back up, reaches out and undoes Michael’s fly.

He looks up to check if this is okay. Michael is watching him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes dark with desire.

So yes then.

The look on Michael’s face sends a hot wash of need through Ethan’s body and he quickly fumbles Michael’s pants open and pulls them down.

Michael’s cock. Michael’s cock is fucking _majestic_. Tall and thick and straight, perfectly proportioned head flushed dark. Ethan’s mouth waters with the desire to feel it in his mouth.

But he doesn’t just pounce on it, because Ethan Mack has a _technique_. Good blow jobs start slow, and build up very gradually to the part where Ethan’s choking on Michael’s fat angel cock.

The first part of the technique is just using his hand, a few long, slow strokes, twisting a little. Then he repeats them but follows his hand with his tongue, licking a broad stripe up the underside of Michael’s cock. The next step is to tease around the edge of the head, not putting it in his mouth yet, just licking –

Suddenly he feels Michael grab his sweat-damp hair and pull. He doesn’t have to look up to know that Michael has him fixed with a glare of disapproval.

Against his better judgment he opens his mouth and starts to explain, “This is my technique. I go slow at the beginning and build up. You’ll see, it’s usually really – mmph –“

Holding Ethan by the hair, Michael pushes his hips forward. Ethan’s face is smushed into Michael’s crotch, Michael’s cock pressed against his cheek.

“Just do it,” says Michael tightly.

Ethan obliges. He moves his head back, Michael’s cock trailing over his face until it finally slips into his open mouth. Immediately Ethan slides down again, sucking Michael in as far as he can.

Fuck, this is good. Michael is so thick and heavy on his tongue. He tastes like sweat and the smallest bitter hint of precome.

Ethan wraps one hand around the base of Michael’s cock, angles it just right to slide his mouth up and down. He’s giddy just at the feeling of it and can’t really think, but he has enough practice with his technique that instinct takes over. He sucks hard each time he moves up, twisting his head and hand in counterpoint, pressing his tongue hard against the underside.

He wraps his other hand around the back of Michael’s thigh, which is dripping with sweat. The muscle there twitches under his hand, like Michael wants to move, thrust into Ethan’s mouth, but is holding himself back.

Ethan slides his hand up to Michael’s ass. Of course it’s perfect, round and tight, and Ethan cups it and squeezes hard.

Michael hisses and yanks on Ethan’s hair.

“Ow,” says Ethan around a mouthful of cock.

“Stop,” says Michael. Obligingly Ethan stops squeezing his ass and moves his hand, reaches out to squeeze his balls –

“Stop,” says Michael again, pulling Ethan’s hair, and Ethan realizes he means stop the blow job.

Ethan pulls off, licks his tingling lips. “Why?” he asks, trying not to sound too personally offended.

“Get up here,” says Michael in response, with the slightest of tremors in his usually controlled voice.

Ethan gets to his feet, and instantly Michael is on him, taking his head in both hands and kissing him.

Ethan’s mouth automatically takes up the same rhythm as moments ago, sucking hard on Michael’s tongue. And maybe Ethan should switch it up, except that this seems to be working on Michael, who groans low in his throat.

And Ethan can die happy now that he’s made _Archangel Michael_ groan like that.

(Like that, meaning in a sexual way. Not as in made him groan in exasperation. Ethan’s pretty sure that already happened a while ago.)

Michael’s kissing with incredibly intensity, and they’re pressed together dripping sweat on each other, and Ethan’s so hard in his pants it hurts.

Hastily he opens his fly, lets his pants and underpants fall, kicks them off. Now he’s totally naked, sweating like a pig, in a greenhouse, with Archangel Michael.

The absurdity might make him laugh if he weren’t a little busy being incredibly horny.

He presses up against Michael, gasping at the feeling of Michael’s cock against his. They rub against each other, skin to skin, slick with sweat and spit, and fuck, this is insane.

Michael grabs Ethan’s hips and grinds hard against him. Ethan pushes back, still sucking on Michael’s tongue, heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

Michael rolls his hips so hard that Ethan actually loses his balance and has to take a step back, clinging to Michael’s arms. And Michael keeps going, pushing Ethan backwards, until Ethan has to pull sloppily away from the kiss to look behind him and make sure he doesn’t trip and fall into a man-eating orchid.

They find a clear path, though, through to the greenhouse wall, and Michael slams Ethan up against it.

The glass is actually marginally cooler than the air around them and feels nice against Ethan’s skin, but not as nice as Michael’s body pressed to his.

Michael wraps an arm around Ethan’s thigh and hitches it up, hand splayed on the underside of his thigh. Before he realizes what’s going on Ethan finds himself balanced on one leg, hips tilted so that Michael can press between his legs and their cocks line up from root to tip.

That feels fantastic, but Ethan’s distracted by Michael’s hand, which is sliding up his thigh towards his ass. Ethan lets his head fall back against the glass, panting, eyes squeezed closed, as Michael’s fingers trace the sweaty juncture where his leg meets his ass.

Michael’s breathing hard too, rolling his body against Ethan’s. He hitches Ethan’s leg up higher and Ethan instinctively wraps it over Michael’s hip. He’s so off-balance like this, but Michael’s arm holding him is strong and Michael’s body is pressing him firmly against the glass.

“Gonna fuck me?” asks Ethan breathlessly. And shit, maybe that’s not a very subtle thing to say. But the way Michael is groping his ass is doing things to him and he needs to know.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes!” His whole body is aching for it, has been since – since forever. That’s how all his fantasies end, with Michael fucking him, face down on the bed or sitting in Michael’s lap or _in mid-air_ –

“I can’t right now,” says Michael softly. “We’re not properly – supplied.”

Ethan’s head agrees. Sweat and spit alone is not going to cut it as lube when Michael’s this big. But Ethan’s heart and cock are frustrated as shit.

“Nnnrgh,” he groans, head dropping back against the glass.

“Perhaps next time,” says Michael. And, okay, _next time_ – that’s good, really good – but Ethan’s distracted by Michael closing a hand over his cock.

Actually, Michael’s squeezing both of their cocks together, which is even better. Michael’s hand feels smooth and hot against him and Michael’s cock is even smoother and warmer, pressed indecently close now. Everything’s wet and sliding together as Michael rolls his hips and slides his hand up and down, and it’s amazing.

Ethan’s straining to breathe the thick air. His blood is boiling and there’s a heat gathering in him like a pool of lava. He doesn’t think he can hold it back much longer.

Michael’s other hand slides in and with a single slick finger circles Ethan’s asshole.

Just that, just the lightest of touches, but it’s too much.

Ethan lets out a very dignified yell of “Fuck, fuck!” as his orgasm erupts out of him. It feels like the hardest he’s ever come, spilling over their cocks and stomachs and Michael’s hand.

Ethan can feel the tension in Michael’s body as he thrusts three more times into the mess between them, and then Michael’s breath catches and he comes, spurting hot against Ethan’s skin.

“ _Fuck_ ,” says Ethan, which doesn’t really begin to cover it.

They pull apart a little and Michael lets Ethan’s leg down. They’re both an incredible mess, flushed, panting, sweat and come running down their bodies. Michael makes it look slightly more elegant than Ethan, but even so.

Ethan doesn’t even care. He’s grinning at Michael like an idiot until Michael finally leans in to kiss him.

And Ethan had never, ever thought that this assignment could go this amazingly.


End file.
